Options
by Maryaminx
Summary: It wasn't the end of the world. Finn had options, even if he was too dumb to notice. Puck/Finn


Finn was brooding. And okay, sure, his girlfriend had just dumped him two days before they were supposed to walk down the hallway of the city courthouse for a do-over on their elopement. And yeah, he hadn't applied to any schools because Kurt and Rachel's New York-or-nothing attitude was contagious or something. But his life wasn't _over_. He had a job, he'd never been to prison, and his mom was cool with him crashing at her house for as long as he needed to get his shit together.

Puck, on the other hand, was glad it was summer because two nights in his pickup waiting for the ceremony before taking off for parts unknown could be kind of uncomfortable in the winter. He had a couple of phone numbers for pool services in LA plus recommendations from a few of the MILFs he hadn't actually LF'd. He'd been single for six months and he hadn't died from blue balls.

Finn hadn't gotten laid enough in the past four years for him to notice _two fucking days_.

And how was he supposed to go live happily-ever-after in New York when he'd never made any plans to move?

Puck didn't think he was that smart, but once he'd gotten the idea to move to California he'd gotten all the details sewn up in a week. Including a place to crash while he looked at apartments with rooms for rent. He'd flexed his guns for the MILFs and mown their front lawns for extra cash even though he hadn't done that lame shit since seventh grade.

Finn had been with Rachel for a solid year, and not counting all that shit from before with Quinn would make it almost three. Rachel's plans had never changed. Hell, Puck had known she wanted to be the next Barbra before he'd even known Berry's _name_.

Either Finn was a lot dumber than he looked or something else was going on.

But the dumb option was looking pretty damn good.

Fed up, he finally stripped the stupid graduation gown off, balling it up and aiming it at the nearest person he hated.

"You know what?" he said, starting to walk away. "Fuck you."

"What?" Finn said, sounding even more confused. Yup, he was gonna go with dumb.

"So what your girlfriend dumped you. So what you don't have any plans. That doesn't mean you're forever alone or what the fuck. It doesn't mean you don't have a future. You have options. Hell, I told you to come with me to LA! Why are you so goddamn _blind_?"

Finn was following him, trying to keep pace as Puck made a beeline for his truck. Puck swung himself up into the cab, finally taking the cap off and crumpling it in his fist.

"What does that mean?" Finn asked, hand resting on the edge of the door. He snatched it back as Puck slammed the door shut. The window was down and Puck tossed the crumpled piece of cardboard and fabric onto the ground.

"It means," Puck said, jamming his key into the ignition and cranking it, "that I've been in love with you since fucking _middle school_, you fucking asshole."

Finn didn't respond, mouth dropping open as Puck peeled out of the parking space.

* * *

The ladies weren't digging his mohawk and Mr. Shuester's Spanish class wasn't cutting it for communicating with his landlady or his coworkers, but Puck wasn't complaining. Los Angeles was a beautiful city, business was booming, and he'd found an awesome bed for cheap on Craigslist.

Getting it into his duplex was a different story, so the last thing he wanted to do after hauling it down a hill and a flight of stairs was to answer the door. He didn't_ think_ he'd knocked over any of his landlady's statues. She seemed kind of protective of them although when he'd asked Santana about them she'd spent five minutes screaming at him over the phone before hanging up. He still didn't know what that was about.

The doorbell rang again, accompanied by some pretty enthusiastic knocking so he sighed and rolled off his fucking amazing mattress.

"I'm coming, keep your pants on," he called, opening his door. "What do you-" he stopped. "Finn?"

Finn was standing there looking sheepish, hands stuffed in his pockets and a duffel bag slung across one shoulder.

"Hey dude," he said casually, like Lima wasn't two thousand miles away. "Can I come in?"

Puck just stared at him. "What the fuck," he said. It was on loop in his head. What the absolute fuck.

Now Finn just looked downcast. "Sorry to bother you, man, but if I could just crash on your floor or something, the next bus doesn't leave out til tomorrow morning-"

"What the fuck," Puck said again, this time moving out of the way and waving a hand toward the tiny two room apartment.

"Oh," Finn said. "Your brain's doing that thing again, isn't it?"

He looked less worried, tossing his bag at a chair and helping himself to the mini fridge on a chair in the corner.

"Dude!" Puck finally got out. "Hands off the food!"

"It's cool," Finn said dismissively through a mouthful of something. "Mom gave me a bunch of Trader Joe's gift cards before they let me leave."

"What are you _doing_ here?" Puck asked while Finn went digging through his pockets, presumably for the gift cards.

"Oh," Finn said, stopping to finally swallow his food. He blushed and looked nervous. "Um. Before you left, you said you loved me, right? And I was wondering-um-you only have one bed, right? So I'm going to stay?"

Puck stared at him. "One bed?" he asked, confused.

Finn's face was really red, and he looked about ready to jump out of his skin.

"I got to thinking, and I realized that I had never really made any plans with Rachel, because I never actually expected to stay with her, you know? Any time I tried to think of the future it was like this big blank wall. But once you left, and I started thinking about coming out here, it was like-I could see everything."

Puck was still staring at him, face screwed up like he was trying to make sense of it all.

"And you said, you needed to know how many bedrooms, because one bed is like, _confirmed_ gay, and-" Finn stopped. "This isn't making any sense, is it?"

Puck nodded, them shook his head. He was still stuck on Finn being _here_, in his apartment, in _California_. Finn sighed.

"Look," he said, taking a step forward. His hands were warm against the sides of Puck's head, his lips rougher than he was used to against his mouth. It was like his touch kick-started something in Puck's brain and he surged up toward Finn, hands sliding up around Finn's shoulders and pulling him even closer.

It was clumsy. Despite Puck's experience nothing about this was what he was used to, and Finn was still hesitant despite his boldness. After several long moments they pulled apart, but Finn hung on to him, deep breaths heating the space between them.

"So can I stay?" he asked.

"Dumb-ass," Puck replied, going in for another kiss.


End file.
